Dirty Vegas
by Starry-NightsXIII
Summary: Full summary inside. Riku is the rich playboy who only loves himself and his money. Sora is the coffee shop waiter by day, stripper by night, struggling to survive. M for language, sexual content, heavy drug use, and character death
1. Life is a Perception of Your Own Reality

Sora/Riku, maybe a bit of AkuRoku and other side pairings later on

Angsty romance

Rated **M **for language, sexual content, heavy drug use, and character death

Riku is the rich, spoiled playboy who's used to getting everything he wants. He neither cares for nor loves anything nor anyone except himself and his money. Sora is the coffee shop waiter by day, stripper by night, struggling to survive in a harsh world, with a light that struggles to shine through the darkness of his life. Can the two discover what love is in a dark underground world of sex, sin, and drugs or will they be consumed by it?

Hello all! I'm back and posting my first multi-chapter Kingdom Hearts fic. I'm not sure where this idea came from, but it was one that I just had to write for some reason. I'm also working on many other fics along with this one, but this is the one that got started quickest, so expect to see more from me hopefully in the near distant future! Anyway, I hope you like this. I'm pretty proud of this chapter, though it could probably be better. It's un-betaed, but I read it over and corrected it as much as I could. I'm sorry for any mistake that may have escaped my notice!

This is just the prologue, things are going to heat up a bit in Chapter One, so review if you would like me to continue!

**Reviews: **Welcome. I always love to hear what you all think! It's your love that keeps me going! So please leave something for me so I know you'd like me to continue. The more reviews I get, the faster I update!

**Constructive Criticism: **Welcome. I really hope to make a career out of writing, so anything that can help me improve is met with open arms.

**Flames: **Welcome. What's a party without a little fire? ;)

Enjoy, pretties!

-Duckie

**Disclaimer: **Nothing but the plot is mine.

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**Dirty Vegas**

**Prologue: Life is a Perception of Your Own Reality**

Butter yellow rays of light shifted restlessly on the carpeted floor as they poured in through an open window, disrupted by fine linen curtains fluttering in the gentle morning breeze. The celestial rays cast their mellow luminescence onto the soft carpet of a fine hotel room that was of no diminutive size or price. The walls were a warm autumn beige, accented by the fine mahogany furniture that adorned the room, the chairs covered in a superior fabric, and the bed dressed with expensive looking 400 thread sheets. Despite their worth and quality, however, those smooth sheets were, at present, carelessly thrown and wrapped around two motionless bodies, tangled in the folds of fabric, sleeping soundly.

The first was a finely-built man of what looked to be about nineteen at the youngest, twenty-one at the oldest. The sheer sheets clung shamelessly to his shapely hips, revealing only his finely sculpted upper body. With each flawless dip, cut, and curve, he seemed to have been crafted from marble by the hands of the finest sculptors of Olympus. Fanning over his pale skin, his hair was of an ultra silky texture, like the robes of a most exalted emperor, only more precious. It shone in the morning light with an uncommon color that resembled ice water and snow tinted subtly with mercury. His skin was akin to the hue of equatorial sands with a light dusting of snowflower undertones, highlighted gorgeously by his natural rosy blush. His lips were pursed slightly as he slept, full, curved and feline, flourishing gently with a petal-soft pink carnation tint.

As the morning sun began to pour more fully into the room, creeping from the floor and up to the bed like an illicit lover, the rays illuminated this slumbering seraph's face in an ethereal glow, stirring him from his slumber. His catlike eyes fluttered open like butterfly wings to reveal a spectacular pair of blue-green eyes that possessed the blitheness of island summers, but also the cunning and prowess of city streets. Through lengthy and pleasantly curved lashes, he squinted drowsily up at the ceiling, shielding his eyes from the sun's intrusive light.

_Too early, dammit…_he thought groggily. He groaned and began to roll over, seeking to delve back into the fathoms of sleep. His progress was halted, however, by a warm blockade nestled beside him.

"The hell…?" He growled before sitting up irritably and glaring at the figure waking slowly beside him.

His bedmate was a blonde bombshell of a man, young and enticing. His heavy lids began to lift, dark eyes peering through long bangs. The black eyeliner that he had worn from the previous night was smeared carelessly around his eyes and his bare neck and shoulders were littered with glowing red lovebites and nail marks. Stretching and sighing, he turned to gaze up at his silver-haired companion, a sultry smile turning up his lips.

"Morning, Riku," he murmured in a tired voice, "Did you enjoy yourself?"

_So_ that's _what happened last night…_the silver-haired man named Riku thought with a frown. If what little of his liquor-dulled memory served him correctly, he had gotten a good fuck last night. The blonde, whatever his name was, beside him sure as hell had known what he was doing. But Riku didn't expect any less of such an expensive whore. When Riku put as much money out as he did for such high class lays he expected nothing but the best.

The blonde boy reached out a hand and began to caress Riku's back, still staring up at him expectantly. Riku merely rolled his eyes and slid out of his touch and from the bed, picking up his discarded pair of underwear from the floor and pulling them on.

"That's Mr. Marcello to you, Blondie." Riku replied coolly as he finished buckling his pants and commenced putting on his wrinkled shirt from the night before. It smelled of vanilla cigars and hard liquor. He snatched up his cellular phone from the night stand and flipped it open, reading the text messages that he had received when he had been…occupied. As he read through and responded to each, he reached into his pant's pocket with his free hand and pulled out a thick wad of rolled up cash, held together by a blue rubberband. Not even sparing a glance he tossed it onto the bed.

"It's the agreed upon amount with a little something extra for that thing you did with your legs." He said shortly, sending out the last of his texts and closing his phone with a snap. He looked back over at the blonde who had settled himself back into the pillows and was now counting the money. Riku scoffed. As if he would ever cheat anyone out of money; he certainly had enough. But that wasn't really a surprise when you were the heir to the chain of Elysia Casinos, one of which was located not far over in the Third District. You could afford anything, you could have anything, you could do anything.

And Riku Marcello made damn sure that he did. The son of casino tycoon Sephiroth Marcello and supermodel Rikku Palisades, endless nights of partying, drinking and sex was the lifestyle that Riku had become accustomed to. He drank at the finest bars, partied at the hottest nightclubs, and hung out with the richest people. Most would call him spoiled, but he preferred to call it following his parents' example. Well…following their example to a certain extent.

Though he was the son of a married man and woman, Riku was completely, undeniably, and utterly gay. His parents constantly introduced him to the young daughters of other big businessmen, but to no avail. Riku found it so much more fun to waste away his nights with gorgeous boys, bought and paid for, rather than "settle down with the right girl" as his parents suggested. He was young and had no interest in love or marriage. Love held no mirth for him and it certainly did not keep the same company as lust did for him. Many called him cold; a machine, a robot. Riku figured that the only thing worth loving was what would love him back: his money and himself. He supposed he loved his parents, and they did too in their way, but in Riku's eyes, romantic love was superfluous.

He stuffed his feet into his shoes and quickly raked a hand through his after-sex slash bed hair. Digging into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes, he walked over to the door, not even turning to look at the blonde man whose name he still could not recall. He decided that it wasn't that important as he opened the door.

"Give my regards to Queenie, wouldja?" Riku called nonchalantly over his shoulder before stepping out and closing the door on another one of his used. He paused in front of the elevator that was just down the hall to pop a cigarette into his mouth and light it. He merely smirked at the no smoking sign nailed to the wall. Riku inhaled deeply as he pressed the down button and released the smoke in a smooth, gray stream. The elevator dinged to life and he stepped into the empty metal box, pressing the button for the lobby.

As he traveled downward, he straightened his clothes as best he could, using the smooth metal of the elevator doors as a mirror. Despite his efforts however, the state of his appearance left no question as to where he had been. When he reached the front desk, he paid for his room, returned the key, and was out the door, finishing off his cigarette as he stepped into the morning light.

Traverse Town's Second District was abuzz with the working class, pushing off to their jobs and making their livings. It was rather strange to Riku: how he had been born with money practically coming out of his pores and all these people around him now had to struggle everyday to earn their keep. Riku smirked. No, not strange. Amusing.

Entering the parking lot, Riku pulled out his keys and pressed the little remote that unlocked his car: a stunning silver Gillet Vertigo which was currently taking up two spaces. He frowned as he noticed how poor a parking job he had accomplished.

_I must've been totally smashed last night…_ He soon dismissed this notion from his lack of the Hangover from Hell, and concluded that he had either been a) too lazy or b) too horny. Either way his parking sucked.

His phone vibrated in his pocket as he lifted the driver's side door, drawing his attention away from his forty-five degree angle parking. He pulled out a sleek, black phone and smiled when he read the name on the caller ID.

"Talk to me, Queenie," Riku said warmly when he answered the call.

"Riku, you bad boy," A female voice cooed from the earpiece, "You're breaking all of my boys' hearts! Poor Gabriel"—_So _that's _what his name was…_Riku thought—"just called to tell me that you didn't even say goodbye and Troy has been wondering when you're going to call upon him next." Riku smirked and rolled his eyes. He was used to Queenie's lighthearted admonishments.

"Well, who am I to give them false hopes?" Riku countered with a grin, "They know exactly what they're in for when they get with me."

"All fucking, and no loving?" Queenie said, a smirk in her voice. Riku smiled.

"Damn straight." Honestly, what else was a whore used for?

"Unlike yourself." Riku laughed openly at her comment.

"Yeah, well I guess I can't argue with that." He replied as he slipped gracefully into the driver's seat of his car, closing the door, putting in the key and starting it up. He opened his glove compartment and began to flip through the many CDs that were crammed inside.

"So, will you be needing my services tomorrow night?" Queenie asked curiously, "It is your birthday and all." Riku selected a CD and slipped it into the player, choosing a track and keeping the volume low.

"Nah, the boys are taking me somewhere," Riku informed her, checking his reflection in his rearview mirror, "To where, I don't know, but we're going somewhere."

"Oooh, surprises are always fun," Queenie giggled, "Well, I hope you enjoy it, and don't have _too_ much fun." Riku could practically envision the wink that Queenie was giving him over the phone. He chuckled, rolling down the windows and revving the engine.

"I'll call you later, yeah?" Riku spoke into the phone, pulling on his seatbelt and clicking it securely.

"Ciao, darling," Riku grinned and snapped his phone shut. He liked Queenie. Not just because she was the mistress behind the prostitution ring Queen of Diamonds (where he sought most of his "business"), but also because she was the only woman besides his mother that he had patience for. Every other girl he met was superficial and super skanky. Shallow rich girls with fake tans and fake personalities; with their too small dresses, their too high heels, with their too small dogs in their too big bags. Queenie was the only girl in the world of glam and glitz with an actual thing called depth.

Tossing his phone carelessly into a cup holder and shifting the car into reverse, he pulled out of the hotel lot and eased out into the street, speeding towards the Third District turnoff. He cranked the volume back up and began to sing along.

_She can't behave, and I'm just a slave_

_Don't worry; I'll be gone when the morning comes_

* * *

The night sky seemed blind, a new moon in the air and the stars blotted out by the volts of glaringly neon lights that erupted from the buildings below. The streets were crowded with people intoxicated with alcohol and the nightlife alike. They laughed and swayed, indulging themselves in the fluorescent pleasures of the hours of darkness that the nocturnal Third District of Traverse Town offered: bright lights, loud music, and vice in the form of alcohol, gambling, and debauchery.

The clatter of change, the _boop-boop_ing jingles of slot machines, and the cries of lucky winners rang from the casinos while music from nightclubs, bars, and strip joints slipped through walls and mated with each other in the air to create a symphony of sin.

The thumping bass bleeding through the bricks of one particular club was like a heartbeat pulsating through a megaphone. Between a tropical island themed bar and a blacklight lit club blaring techno music was a fairly large building with bright glowing green lights proclaiming the word "Illusions" high above the door, the double l's substituted by the silhouettes of a finely figured man and woman.

Illusions was one of the first strip clubs to ever make its place in the Third District, otherwise known as the Vice District. It was extremely popular for its co-ed staff. The place attracted all types of men and women: straight men, and gay men, straight women, and lesbians, bisexuals and transsexuals. At Illusions there was something for everyone.

At present, a gorgeous, leggy raven-haired woman was entertaining the cheering masses inside on a shiny, silver pole, her nude body manipulated by the music that played. She was one of the many strippers that worked at the club, either out giving lap dances, working the pole, serving drinks in the crowd, or back in their dressing rooms waiting for their turn to take the stage.

In one particular dressing room a young boy of about nineteen, sat perched upon a stool before a brightly lit vanity. He was clad in a black leather vest that appeared airbrushed onto his body, and a pair of shorts that left little to the imagination. Covering his slender tan calves was a pair of knee-high black leather lace-up combat boots, adorned with silver zippers and buckles. He had a lithe form, slender, yet defined in the arms and legs, with a flat stomach as taut as dolphin backs. His hair was a dark shade of chestnut that blended well with his bronze skin. He looked disgruntled and irritated as he attempted to line his blue eyes with glittering amethyst colored eyeliner.

"Where the hell is he?" The brunette grumbled to himself as he struggled to correctly line his eyes with the sparkly violet. His hands were shaking something terrible and he was glossed over in a light sheen of sweat though his body was racked with recurring shivers. The tremors that were plaguing him made it exceedingly difficult for him to accomplish the task at hand and his patience was quickly growing short.

Throwing the eye pencil down in frustration, the teen stared balefully at his reflection in his overly illuminated mirror. His eyes that were normally the most gorgeous shade of bright azure were now dull and a dark cobalt. The subdued hue of his eyes only added to the gaunt and haunted look of his tanned cherub's face. Despite his make-up efforts, the dark circles beneath his eyes were evident and defined. His cheeks that were usually aglow with his smiles were devoid of any color and appeared hollow beneath his frown.

He knew he needed something. Anything. Something to get him through the night. Or was it the day? He hardly knew anymore. He heard a light knock on the door and a slight rise in the music volume as the door was opened.

"Sora, babe," a female voice called from the doorway, "You're on in thirty." Though simple and nowhere near loaded, those words struck Sora like a kick to the teeth. _You're on in thirty…_

Yeah…it was definitely night. Was it that hard to figure out that he didn't want to do this? To be here? To shed his skin on stage for people who couldn't see beneath the sexual exterior he presented and into the misery that manifested itself just below his carefully constructed surface? Would it even matter to them if they could? No, he concluded, it would not…and that's why he was on in thirty.

"O-okay, thanks, Lar…." He replied in a slightly defeated tone, not even bothering to turn around, opting to address the reflection of the scantily dressed blonde rather than the girl herself. He heaved a sigh that encompassed the woes of many when the door shut again. He picked up his eye pencil again, willing his hand to stop quaking. He once again attempted to trace the glimmering amethyst along the rim of his lid when his arm twitched spasmodically, effectively dragging a line of purple from his eye to the top of his cheek.

"Dammit." Sora growled as he hurled the pencil down again with a loud clatter and stuck his finger into his mouth, using the moisture to rub at the stray line. Instead of solving his dilemma, his endeavors made it worse. He had managed to do nothing but smudge the violet around his eye until it resembled a shimmering, pulsating bruise from a bad seventies disco movie. If he didn't look like the stereotypical cheap whore… The only thing missing were the cigarette burns. He sighed; he would have to request a mask tonight. He made to go seek one out when his phone buzzed noisily on the fake wood of the vanity. He pounced on it like a cat with a mouse and flipped it open without even so much as glancing at the caller ID.

"Zex?" Sora breathed desperately into the mouthpiece. He heard a familiar snicker from the other end.

"The one and only," the voice confirmed, "Outside the backdoor. Now." Before he could even utter another word, Sora had clicked off and was out the door and down the hall in record time. He nodded robotically to the familiar faces of his fellow employees that he passed in the narrow corridor, not really seeing or hearing them completely. They were the most important people to him. They were just like him, they suffered with him. They were his family.

But they didn't matter right now. Nothing did. The only thing that _did_ matter was what Zexion had waiting for him outside.

The cool night air hit his overexposed body like an arctic freight train when he opened the door that led into the back alley and he instantly regretted not bringing something to cover up his nigh nudity. Sora glanced around the darkness of the alley through squinted eyes. "Zex?" he called out warily, one foot still in the door, prepared to retreat quickly if necessary. He knew exactly how dangerous the Third District alleys were at night, especially for such a skimpily clothed youth such as himself, and he wasn't willing to try his luck at self-defense.

"Vegas!" a voice responded with a snicker. Out of the shadows, just to the left of a dim doorlight from the building across the alleyway, stepped the tall and slender purple-haired man that Sora had just finished speaking with.

Zexion was devastatingly attractive with feline features and cunning eyes. His lean body was garbed in a figure-flattering black, leather hooded coat. On his hands were a pair of black leather gloves, and a pair of matching boots covered his feet.

He approached Sora with a warm smile. Sora grinned back and nodded in salute, stepping all the way out and letting the door fall shut.

"Finally! I thought you weren't gonna show," Sora said as they embraced in a brotherly hug. Zexion smirked as they pulled away from each other and he reached into the pocket of his long black coat.

"Would I ever let you down?" Zexion queried with a wink.

"That remains to be seen," Sora countered with a grin. Zexion chuckled and extracted a dime bag filled with a white powder. He held it before Sora who extended his hand eagerly, palm up. Zexion dropped it into Sora's waiting hand and crossed his arms.

"This should take you for a ride," he said in a businesslike tone, "It's pure—got it from a highly reliable source—and for a very reasonable price."

"H-how much is it?" Sora asked, chewing his lip anxiously, "I've only got forty bucks inside, and I can pay you back after I get off tonight so—"

"Sora," Zexion interrupted sternly, "You can barely afford to feed yourself let alone your addiction. When have I ever charged you?" Sora continued to overturn the bag of white in his hands shakily, his eyes alive with the need. He opened his mouth to answer, but couldn't form a proper sentence at the moment. He merely nodded, tucking his prize safely into the pocket of his vest.

"Now, if you want smack, then I'm gonna have to charge you only because the dude I get it off of demands a Queen's ransom for it…" Zexion explained, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a box of cigarettes and packing it before shaking one loose. Sora nodded again with a slight frown. Guess he would have to do without speedball for a while unless Zexion was feeling generous. He bit his lip, his fingers twitching; wanting to reach into his pocket that felt as if it was filled with lead. He grappled at something to say, trying to fight off the urge, to prove to himself that he could wait.

"S-so what're you doing with your night off?" Sora asked as Zexion lit up, guarding the flame with his hand, illuminating the sharp contours of his angular face and casting the hollows into dramatic shadows. Zexion snapped his lighter shut and took a long drag before answering in a cloud of smoke.

"Demyx and I are going to have a little fun," he said, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively and producing a tiny white pill from his pocket and holding it out before the brunette. Sora regarded it with a smirk.

"Heh, I can't even remember the last time I did X…" he commented, accepting a drag on Zexion's proffered cigarette. The silvery haired man slipped the pill back into his pocket and grinned.

"Cuz you prefer to trip acid instead when we go to raves." Zexion said with a grin. He sucked on his cigarette again before continuing. "We only use it sometimes for sex," he explained, "Makes it that much more fun." He winked and polished off his cancer stick, tossing it to the ground and grinding the dying embers into the ground beneath his boot. "Well…catch ya later, gorgeous!" He said giving the brunette a peck on the cheek and turning to walk down the alley.

"Wait!" Sora called after him, one hand on the doorknob, "You're coming in tomorrow night, yeah?" He tried to sound offhand, but there was a hint of desperation in the undertow of his voice. Zexion turned to look at him, a grin on his face, but sympathy and sadness in his eyes.

"Yeah, I'll be in," he assured the brunette, quietly. He then hesitated before speaking again. "And I'll bring something with me…" The perceptible relief that seeped into Sora's features slightly disconcerted Zexion; Sora's dependency was really beginning to worry him.

"Great, so I'll see you tomorrow," Sora chirped as he opened the door to the club and stepped in.

"Take care of yourself, Sora." Zexion advised before the door closed. Sora gave him the thumbs up sign before letting the door shut behind him. "…Please." Zexion murmured before heading back down the alley and into the shadows.

Once Sora was back in his room, he hastily locked the door, glancing up at the clock on the wall. He had about twenty-five minutes until he had to go out. He quickly sat himself down and knocked his old nemesis (the sparkling violet eyeliner) out of his way with a sweep of his hand and pulled out his stash. He then opened a drawer in his vanity and withdrew from it a small razor. With trembling fingers, he opened the bag and emptied its contents onto the surface of the vanity. Doing his best to control his quaking, Sora cut himself a rail from the powder, making it neat and straight.

Sora stared down at it for a moment, trying to command his erratic breathing into normalcy. When he was ready, he set down his razor and pressed his fingers to his right nostril, closing it completely. As he bent down, the thudding bass of the showroom music seeming to grow louder in his ears. Or was that his heartbeat? He neither knew nor cared. He brought his nose to the beginning of the white line and began to inhale, the tip of his nose skimming the vanity as he progressed to the end. When he came back up his eyes were watering and his nose was glowing red.

"Holy shit…" he murmured as he rubbed his nose vigorously. "Fuckin' hell…" He exhaled through his mouth heavily and gripped the edge of the vanity as he experienced the drip that began to collect at the back of his throat. He still hadn't gotten used to it.

But it all felt so very good. And it all felt so very right. And, in that moment, it felt as if it was all that he would ever need.

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So how what did you think? Let me know! Review and such if you would like me to continue!

In the next chapter: Stripping, meetings, and angst!

**Song(s) featured in this chapter:**

Situations by Escape the Fate

Always,

Duckie


	2. Dirty Vegas: Part One

Sora/Riku, maybe a bit of AkuRoku and other side pairings later on

Angsty romance

Rated **M **for language, sexual content, heavy drug use, and character death

(A/N): This chapter is getting split into parts because it's just...too long. XD I'd never force you guys to read through such a long chapter of my blahness. Not sure how many parts, but yes...parts.

Anyhoo, in this chapter there is Roxas, stripping, pants dropping with a touch of angst. Fun, fun. Haha. Hopefully it's not too bad and you guys will stick with this fic. Please, please review! I really want to know what you think. It also kind of sucks when you have a whole bunch of hits, people alerting and favoriting this fic, but not reviewing, y'know?

Enjoy, lovelies!

-Duckie

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Kingdom Hearts

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**Dirty Vegas (Part I)**

"All right, you _will _cooperate tonight," Sora growled, "_I'm _in control here, and you _will _do as I command!"

The brunette was seated at his vanity and was staring intensely at his Violet Starz eye pencil, his tone domineering and his face set like a drill sergeant's. He was prepared to wage all out war on eye makeup if he was not complied with.

Needless to say, Sora was feeling better tonight. Zexion had given him something really good that previous night and it was holding him well. He knew that he would probably need another hit soon, but for now, he was content.

"Sora, you skank, are you in there?" A disgruntled voice called from outside Sora's dressing room. The brunette threw one last threatening glance at his eyeliner before looking away and smiling. He knew that voice.

"Hey, ho," Sora retorted with a grin, continuing to apply his eyeliner (slipping it threats beneath his breath occasionally) as the door opened behind him and a pair of slim arms wrapped around his neck in a gentle embrace. Blue eyes met a pair of identical azure peepers as Sora gazed into the mirror at the reflection of his best friend, Roxas Yugure.

Roxas was the kind of boy that Sora would marry. He was always there to talk to him when times got too hard. They could laugh together; they could cry together; they could scream together until their throats were shredded and raw. Roxas was also ready to kick the shit out of anyone who crossed Sora in any way.

And when times were quiet, they could enjoy each other's silence without feeling uneasy or the impulse to say something, anything. Yes, Roxas was probably the one person most suited to spend his life with Sora. The only trouble was that Roxas looked exactly like him.

Save for Roxas's shorter, spiky blonde hair and the subtle nuances in his facial features, Roxas and Sora could pass as twins and people had often mistaken them as such. They stood shoulder to shoulder in height, boasting nigh identical statures and shared a laugh that was similar in both gusto and volume.

"You'll never believe this…" the blonde whined, "Marly's got us doing the pair performance _tonight_." He groaned dramatically and buried his face in Sora's shoulder. Sora's eyes widened considerably and he dropped his eye pencil.

"You have _got _to be shitting me." Sora declared in disbelief, "_Please_, tell me you're joking, Roxas." The fair-haired boy popped his head back up and spoke to the reflected brunette.

"'Fraid not, buttercup," he said bitterly, unlatching his arms from Sora's neck and leaning against the edge of the vanity, arms crossed, "We're on right after Olette." Sora whined and dropped his head to the table, arms splayed out carelessly in his trademark "oh, woe is me" pose.

"Damn Marluxia, whyyyyy?" He griped, pouting as he kicked his legs childishly. No matter how many times Sora took his clothes off for the world to see and no matter how many times he shot up or snorted cocaine, Sora was and always would be a child at heart. Roxas's voice sounded faraway when he spoke again from somewhere above him.

"Please don't tell me you forgot the routine already," He asked worriedly. Sora rolled his eyes and lifted his head, tugging irritably at one of his spikes.

"No, I remember it," he assured his friend (who gave an audible sigh of relief), "It's just…overwork much?" Roxas nodded in agreement and picked up a container of eyeshadow, examining it with little interest.

"He says there are some 'promising clients' going to be here tonight and he wants 'to show off our crème de la crème.'" Sora laughed and shook his head, resuming his eyeliner escapade. "Promising clients" were the customers with money, and lots of it. They were the ones who owned big businesses in the First and Second Districts and the casinos and nightclubs here in the Third District with their branches all over the world. And Marluxia, their pink-haired choreographer slash costume designer was always watching to see what walking dollar sign would be seeking entertainment at Illusions next.

"So much for going home early tonight…" Sora grumbled, picking up his eyeliner and finishing up with his eyes. He snatched the eyeshadow from Roxas's hands and opened it. Roxas scoffed as Sora began to smear the onyx eyeshadow onto his lids.

"Go home early? Bitch please…we can't _afford_ to go home early."

Sora frowned slightly. "So true, so very true…" he sighed dramatically. He then perked up as a thought sprang into his mind. "Hey, Mar said that we were getting some richie-riches tonight, so maybe if we're _sooo_ good that we blow the smoke detectors, we'll be able to get enough money to get Madame Hui's tonight!" Sora turned to face Roxas with an expectant look on his face. Roxas grinned widely.

"I like the way you think, hotpants…" Roxas commented. Sora chose to ignore this jibe at his sinfully short shorts and shrugged with a smile.

"Elementary, my dear Watson, elementary," he adopted a perfect imitation of an English accent when he spoke and earned a laugh from his friend, who Sora gladly joined in with. Laughter was the only way he kept from crying.

"Sora!" a voice surprised them both from the doorway, "You're up next, and you and Rox on right after—"

"Olette," Roxas finished quickly, "We know, thanks, Yuffie. Now could you _please _put a shirt on?" The girl named Yuffie had short black hair and large brown eyes. She had long legs and light skin. She giggled and rolled her eyes at Roxas's comment.

"Oh, come on," Yuffie put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to the side, "You act like you don't see these and more every night from all the girls here."

"Yah, but it doesn't make it any less unpleasant, dearie," Roxas shot back, "Now scoot, he'll be out in a sec."

"Whatev," the black haired girl chirped with a smile as she bounced back down the hall. Roxas gave something that was akin to a shudder before he turned back to the brunette. Sora took this time to really take a look at what Roxas was wearing. His ensemble consisted of a white, long-sleeved Oxford, a red tie, and tan pants. Currently his feet were devoid of shoes, a pair of white socks in their place.

"So, what're you supposed to be?" Sora inquired, though he already had an idea. Roxas quirked an eyebrow and reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of lenseless, black-rimmed glasses.

"Naughty Catholic schoolboy," he crooned in a husky voice, licking his top lip seductively. Sora snorted and Roxas dropped the act shaking his head and removing the glasses.

"It's a shame you don't need glasses," Sora commented, standing up and closing his left eye. He rubbed the tips of his fingers in the dark eyeshadow, "You look really good with them on." Roxas snorted and began to mess with his hair in the mirror.

"Yeah, well, maybe if I stare at Yuffie's tits long enough my eyesight will be ruined." Sora burst into a fit of laughter and dropped the eyeshadow container, whilst Roxas merely smiled and glanced at the clock. His eyes widened slightly in surprise. He turned back to the hysterical brunette and rolled his eyes, trying not to laugh himself.

"Come on, Sor, move your ass!" Roxas commanded as he clapped his hands rapidly, trying to move his friend along. Sora's laughter abruptly died away and he let out a sound that was half scream and half groan as he hurriedly spread the eyeshadow on his other lid. He wiped his blackened fingers on an old T-shirt and turned to face his friend, slightly panicked.

"Gah, how do I look?" Sora demanded, standing up and facing Roxas, hands on his hips. Roxas snorted before answering.

"Sluttastic," he assured him, "Now get out there and earn us some dinner!" He grabbed Sora's shoulders and turned him so that he faced the door. He gave him a swift pat on the ass educing a mousy squeak from the surprised brunette, and pushed him towards the hall. Sora chuckled at his friend's antics and paused on his way out.

"Yeah, 'I spread 'em for egg rolls' ought to do the trick, right?" he joked. Roxas snickered and spread his arms and shrugged.

"Whatever gets us fed, Lolita" Sora grinned and exited the room, the smile disappearing from his features as soon he was out of Roxas's sight. _Whatever gets us fed. _Sora laughed humorlessly.

_Of course…_he thought, _Why else do you think I do this? _He was mentally preparing himself for what he was about to endure when the door that led to the showroom opened and a sweat slicked Zexion entered the narrow corridor, pulling a bathrobe over his naked body as he went. The money that was peeking out from the robe pockets did not escape Sora's notice. Zexion smiled when he saw Sora.

"Knock 'em dead, Vegas," he encouraged with a wink and a pat on the shoulder as he passed. Sora paused.

Vegas. Dirty Vegas. That was him, and yet it wasn't. Physically he was still Sora Hikari, but his mind and soul…well, those were things that made their beds in the graves of his hidden misery. Because when he stepped onto that stage, he lost his identity. When he stepped onto that stage, he was no longer Sora Hikari. He was Dirty Vegas.

* * *

"How in the hell did you guys get me here?" Riku asked laughingly, grasping his umpteenth shot glass. He was seated at one of the front tables with a group of guys, all in various stages of inebriation, as a purple-haired man finished up his dance on stage.

To celebrate his twenty-first birthday, a group of Riku's closest friends had gotten him to come out to some co-ed strip joint called Illusions. They had tried to convince him that it would be fun, naming all sorts of merits the club held. Riku was just there for the alcohol.

Surrounding him, his friends were laughing raucously and tossing dollar bills to the stage. Riku looked over at them, shaking his head in amusement. Here they were, the great sons of the gods of Traverse Town, getting drunk off their faces and blowing cash on male and female strippers alike. Their forefathers must be rolling in their graves.

To Riku's left was Axel Hino, a gorgeous man with spiky red hair and emerald eyes accentuated by tattooed triangles beneath. He was the son of Gemlin Hino, owner of Gemini Electronics, a company that produced cellular phones, computers, televisions, and mp3s among other things that were exceedingly popular all over the world. Beside Axel was his brother, Reno, whose hair was just as red, though longer, and whose eyes were just as green. He was nestled into the side of a strapping looking black man with shades. His name was Rude and he had been hired as the personal bodyguard of the Hino brothers. Now he was that _and_ the lover of Reno Hino.

Beside them was a surly looking man with a black skull cap, and muscular arms that were folded over his chest. Seifer Almasy's claim to fame was the huge fortune that he was in for when he inherited the money that his father made as a manufacturer of popular sports cars.

Tidus Shima, tan, dirty blonde and a bit on the shorter side, was the son of Casius Shima, owner of a string of popular nightclubs that were prevalent in popular areas like the Vice District. Though a lucrative business, there were rumors that a great deal of his fortune amounted from winnings in bets on rigged Blitzball games.

Hayner Nichibotsu was the heir to the gorgeous Exodus Hotels that attracted both wealthy clients and celebrities alike. Hayner had met more famous faces in those hotels and at his parents' parties than anyone could meet at the Oscar's.

In short, Riku's table was one giant bank account.

"What kind of birthday is this?" Riku pretended to complain, "No birthday cake, no presents, what the hell?" His tipsy friends laughed heartily and Riku knocked back another shot.

"Hey, you could always buy yourself a lap dance," Axel suggested, toasting him with his shot glass, "That oughta make a good gift."

"You know what, Ax?" Riku began to retort, but was drowned out by the sudden chants of "Vegas! Vegas! Vegas!" Riku wrinkled his nose in confusion.

"What the hell?" he mouthed to Axel. The redhead just shrugged as the lights dimmed further and the stage was illuminated by flashing colors.

"Guess the show is starting," he inferred, before turning to face the stage where a figure was emerging from the shadows.

* * *

Dirty Vegas took the stage, deafened by the wild cheers and wolf whistles of the crowd. He moved in time with the music, a rock song that was uncommon for strippers. His hips swayed as he went, bringing himself to the shiny pole that reflected his surroundings in abstract shapes. Taking hold of it, he took a quick breath and began.

He expertly lifted himself onto the pole, climbing it with ease. The flashing lights that had once been dizzying to him were now just a nuisance. He felt as if he were dancing in a giant Crayola box.

_Open wide!_

In time with the music, he spread his legs on either side of the pole, hovering above the ground, just as he was taught. He was pretty good at memorizing his routines now, and didn't have to think about what it was that he was supposed to do next.

_Space and time distort the mind._

He let himself slide down the pole slowly, legs still spread before wrapping them around the silver and turning himself upside down, continuing his progression to the floor. Oftentimes he wished that he didn't know his moves so well and that he had to think about what to do next. It kept him from thinking about the humiliation he was subjecting himself to.

_Constantly, we dance in sheets_

In a feat of expertise and dexterity, Vegas kicked his legs backwards and arched his back, feet landing gracefully on the floor. He let go of the pole and dropped to his knees, running his hands along his body, his hips swinging with the music.

_It feels so right to be so wrong_

He rolled onto his back, the stage cold against his back and lifted his hips, dragging his hands up his thighs, back over his torso and through his hair, his face imitating a mask of ecstasy.

_Normal love set aside, leave your  
Heart at the bedside_

He flipped himself over with impressive speed that matched the song and went to his hands and knees, crawling to the edge of the stage like a salacious sex kitten. He was coming to the part where he was supposed to select one "lucky dog" to receive a lap dance. He scanned the crowd swiftly, before remembering what Roxas had told him.

_Contaminate the air like you do_

_Swear I'm telling you the truth._

Vegas internally rolled his eyes. If he didn't pick from one of the "promising clients" Marluxia would have his ass for a handbag. He almost laughed at the thought of what some people did to make a buck…but that would make him a hypocrite wouldn't it? He fought the thought off by shifting his attention back to the uproarious crowd.

His eyes locked onto the table and met with a pair of startlingly beautiful viridescent blue eyes framed by long, silvery bangs. Vegas recognized him. Mister Riku Marcello. In fact, he recognized everyone at his table. Rich boys out for yet another night of fun. Honestly he could've chosen from any one of them to reap a hefty profit, but it did not escape his notice that it was the silver-haired man that was completely entranced, heavily under the spell of a stripper. With a sly smirk, Vegas decided on his "lucky dog."

The brunette stood and sashayed to the edge of the stage, giving a subtle nod and wink to one of the waitresses in the crowd. She nodded and came up behind Riku and brought both hands behind his back, holding them firmly. There was a strict no touching rule at the club, and it was everyone's part to make sure that it was enforced.

Riku looked vaguely surprised. He obviously knew what was going to happen (probably from prior experience), but had not been expecting it to happen to him. Dirty Vegas grinned and slipped deftly from the stage. He meandered with a feline grace over to the bound man who was staring straight at him, looking as if he was having trouble breathing.

_Jaded Masquerade. _

With a dramatic side kick of his leg, Dirty Vegas settled himself onto the lap of the viridian eyed man. He looked him square in the eyes with a commanding air that said "_I'm_ the one in control." Riku didn't seem to hold any objections to that.

_No Names._

He grasped the lapels of Riku's shirt and arched his back swinging his upper body in a slow semicircle before bringing his face insanely close to Riku's.

_Contradicting fates.  
It's all the same._

Vegas's expert fingers that slowly ran up the inside of Riku's inner thigh made the muscles jump rapidly as if they were trying to break through his skin. Riku bit his lip and groaned in frustration. If only he could touch him…. Unfortunately, the grip on his wrists of the girl behind him was unyielding. Yesterday Riku had told Queenie that he wouldn't need any of her boys tonight. Well, at this rate, he _would_ be needing to call upon her unless…. Unless of course he could persuade Dirty Vegas to spend the night with him….

_I'm telling you the truth,_

_Telling you the truth I swear..._

Vegas slid his hands over the expanse of Riku's chest and over his shoulders, bringing his lips to his neck and breathing hotly onto his skin, allowing a pleasured moan or two just to feel him shudder with want beneath him. He grinned as he felt the silver-haired man's thighs tighten and a growing bulge between them.

"What's your name?" Riku asked breathily.

"Dirty Vegas," the brunette answered automatically. Sora Hikari ceased to exist.

"H-how about we get out of here?" the silver-haired man suggested through shuddering breath. Vegas smirked and grinded his hips into the man's lap before responding.

"How about we don't?" he countered saucily. Vegas was used to these kinds of offers, though this time he had to admit that he was having second thoughts about his refusal. The man that was a slave to his every whim right now was exceedingly, sinfully, drop dead gorgeous.

"I could show you a good time," Riku persisted, lifting his hips slightly to meet Vegas's slowly gyrating ones. The brunette smirked, leaning closer to Riku, allowing his nose to skim the shell of his ear before whispering throatily.

"And I could show you the door." He then put on a faux sweet smile and tried not to laugh at the aroused man before him. He was flushed with something that was probably a hybrid between lust and anger. With a soft chuckle, Vegas decided that he had done enough teasing and that it was time to take to the stage again. First cardinal rule of stripping for wealthy clients: always leave them wanting more.

He winked at Riku, whose pale face was now glowing red, and danced back towards the stage, defiantly keeping Riku's gaze and mouthing the words of the song.

_I just want your attention, baby_

* * *

Lord knew that this Dirty Vegas guy certainly had Riku's complete and undivided attention as he slid from his lap and strutted back to the stage, effortlessly lifting himself back up with an impertinent smile all the while. Riku groaned as he felt his pants tighten around him as Dirty Vegas took the pole again, grasping it with both hands.

_Every sweat-soaked night_

He dipped low and grinded into the pole, rotating his body to face the crowd, one arm bent backward over his head still grasping the metal.

_Every taunting fight_

As the note was dragged out in the music, he began to sink torturously slow to the floor, his one hand still on the pole, the other reaching between his open legs to touch the stage. Keeping in sync with the cadence of the blaring song, Vegas pulled himself up and strutted front and center to the edge of the stage.

_Lock the doors_

With an impish smirk, Vegas locked eyes boldly with Riku, bringing his fingers to the zipper of his vest. He began to tug down the zipper, moving his hips in time to the music. He let it slip to the floor of the stage and he kicked it away carelessly, the excitement building up in the mass below him becoming almost tangible. Riku, being at a table in the very near front was gripping his pants legs in earnest, trying to keep himself from taking the brunette where he stood.

_Turn off the lights_

The boy called Dirty Vegas bit his bottom lip sensuously and closed his eyes, caressing his bare upper body as if it was the most glorious thing in the world. His hands traveled down to his swaying hips, bringing Riku's eyes down with them. Teasing at the snap buttons on either side, it seemed as if the whole world was waiting on bated breath.

_Remove all your clothes_

With a final decisive tug, Vegas liberated himself of his leather shorts and threw them to the side, earning a wild uprising of cheers and catcalls from the crowd. Riku was practically picking his jaw up from the table when the boy unveiled his glorious body, smooth and wet, shimmering blue, green and red in the blinking lights. He ended his routine with a quick go at the pole before sweeping up the dollar bills that he was gifted with and disappearing from the stage.

Riku was stunned. Was that kind of body even_ legal?_

"Did you enjoy the show?" Axel's amused voice came from somewhere far away. Riku broke from his trance and turned to his friends who were looking at him with goofy grins. Riku frowned and colored slightly, pushing Axel good-naturedly.

"Didn't you?" Riku challenged, an eyebrow raised, watching his friends expectantly. Tidus raised his hand with a smirk on his face.

"Straight boy here," he said simply. Riku rolled his eyes and laughed, knocking back a shot and slamming it down George Clooney style. He then looked back at his other friends and grinned.

"And what about the rest of you pipe bangers?" He asked, leaning on his elbows, his head tipping slightly from the hard liquor.

"Definitely something I'd take home…" Seifer said hoarsely, his eyes clouded with lust, still fixated on the space where Dirty Vegas once stood.

"Hell yeah," Hayner chimed in with a tipsy swagger, "You're so lucky you got a lap dance outta _that _one." Riku gave a "what can I say?" kind of shrug and sniggered. He looked back at Axel expectantly, not even bothering with Reno who looked to be slowly slipping into a liquor-induced stupor against Rude's shoulder.

"Well," Riku started, "What do you have to say for yourself, Marinara?" Axel sent a mock glare in Riku's direction and snickered before leaning back in his chair, arms folded.

"He was fucking hot, no questions asked, but…" Axel pursed his lips, seeming to choose his words carefully, "But he's too soft for my taste." Riku raised a quizzical brow.

"Oh, and how's that?" he queried with a laugh. Axel shrugged and glanced back at the stage that was already bringing out the next performance: a cute-faced brunette whose hair turned up at the ends, and was dressed immodestly in a flimsy orange dress.

"I like my boys with a bit of edge," the redhead explained, "He seems like he's trying to hold on to his last bit of innocence." Riku snorted derisively and motioned for one of the waitresses to bring him another round of drinks.

"Don't get so philosophical, Ax, it doesn't suit you" he joked, earning a soft punch in the shoulder. "Besides, he's just a stripper—it's the life he chose—what innocence could he possibly have left?"

* * *

The room was dark when Sora stepped back inside his dressing room. Wrapping his robe tightly around him, he didn't even bother to flip the switch. He closed the door, enveloping himself in darkness, the only light being the gold band that filtered through the space beneath the door.

He felt dirty. Grimy, contaminated and every other word for the violated aura that encompassed him now. As wrinkled dollar bills rustled in his pocket, Sora wrapped his arms around himself and sank to the floor, back to the wall. He looked as if he was trying to hold himself together.

How did he get here? Why was he doing this? When would it end? They were questions that had plagued him for so long without answers. The prowess that he had adopted on stage was quickly melting away. What would Riku Marcello think if he were to see him now?

Riku Marcello. He had been, without a doubt, the single most beautiful creature he had seen in his entire life. The way the multi-colored lights had danced on the surface of his platinum hair made him seem like some kind of acid god. His body had been flawless beneath his clothes as the brunette had slowly run his hands over his figure, committing every contour and texture to memory.

And those eyes…God, help him, those eyes. Aquamarine and feline. They had the appearance of two very rare precious jewels set against tropical sands, asking to take him far away. Unfortunately they were one dimensional and Riku was just like the rest of them. Shallow and under the influence of lust and alcohol, making offers to "show him a good time." Those eyes hadn't seen a person suffering inside when they had gazed at Sora. They had seen a thing; a toy. And maybe he was a toy. A toy that was so used and abused that it was past the breaking point and beyond repair. His defenses crumbled and his meticulously constructed façade shattered as the tears began.

"'Someone catch me, because I think I'm falling…'" he whispered hoarsely through his tears, the words from somewhere that he couldn't quite remember.

But there was no one there to hold him. And there was no one there to catch him as he fell. Fell into himself and placed his hands over his ears and tried to block out the thudding bass that was an amplification of his heart, both of which he wished would just stop.

* * *

And that's the end of Chapter One, Part One. Hopefully the second half will be up soon, but that all depends on reviews! What did you think? Should I keep going? Should I trash it? Did you love it? Did you hate it? Review and let me know, pretties! :3

Always,

Duckie


	3. Dirty Vegas: Part Two

Omigosh, I live! I'm so sorry this took forever, but life, finals, and lack of inspiration got in the way. But here it is! The second part of Chapter 1 (Wow, I've made SO much progress, yeah?)

This part was a chore to get through. Writer's block really took it's toll here and I hope it's not too terrible. I was contemplating not posting this until I had a random burst of inspiration, but who knows when that could be? So here it is in all it's crappy glory, but hopefully you can get through it without too many scars on your eyes, haha. Love you all!

Please review so I can get better! Thanks, pretties!

* * *

**Dirty Vegas (Part II)**

From the way his lapdance had played out, it was obvious that Dirty Vegas was going to need a little persuasion before Riku could get what he wanted from him. Riku was spoiled, and he had no problem admitting it. He was used to getting what he wanted, when he wanted it. And now that the tradition was being tampered with, he was not a happy camper.

And that's why he was now silent and contemplative as his friends carried on lewd conversations in boisterous, drunken tones. The silver-haired man was thinking of every way he could possibly get the brown-haired sex kitten alone. The only struggle in his half-formed ploys and cheap tricks was the problem of persuasion. Riku had always been led to believe that money could buy him anything. Obviously that wasn't the case in his current situation.

And this frustrated him. Immensely. That is, until the music started up again and his attentions were once again captured by the creatures of the night on the stage.

* * *

The way the masked brunette strutted out onto the stage in time with the beat of the music, his hips swerving, made the performance twice as dramatic and the performer twice as seductive. He had one arm bent over his shoulder, hand gripping a leather leash that was attached to a studded collar around a blonde boy's neck, whose face was also masked. Riku assumed him to be Sultry Dusk. He wore black wings like Vegas's and his hands seemed to be bound behind him.

Still matching the throbbing bass perfectly, Vegas yanked the leash and brought the blonde to face the crowd. He then pushed him to his knees.

_Everybody wants me to be their angel  
Everybody wants something they can cradle_

Vegas slipped around him as easily as a shadow, gifting the blonde with caresses and sensually violent pushes and tugs on the leash. Riku took a side glance at Axel to see that he was equally enthralled. His eyes, however, were more than likely on Dusk, finding whatever "edge" he was looking for in the blonde as Vegas stripped him of his scant shirt.

_They don't know I burn  
They don't know I burn  
They don't know I burn_

_  
_With each extension of a note, Vegas made a crescent circuit with his hips as he bent at his knees, hands gripping the inside of his thighs. Behind him, Dusk was twisting himself around the pole, his legs doing most of the work, and achieving spectacular feats that seemed impossible to accomplish with his hands bound.

_Maybe there's a devil (or something like it) inside  
Maybe there's a devil (or something like it) inside of me  
Devil (or something like it) inside  
Maybe there's a devil somewhere really deep inside me  
Devil inside of me  
Jealous angel deep inside me_

As the music changed up again to its initial tempo, Dusk was up from his seat and out of his bonds. He instantly turned the tables on Dirty Vegas by pushing him to the ground with theatrical finesse.

_You don't know cuz you're too busy reading labels  
You're missing all the action underneath my table_

His movements were similar to Vegas's, though Dusk seemed to posses a certain raw, sexual sharpness that invariably complimented Vegas's soft, sensual tempting. If Dirty Vegas was the sleek shine of a blade, then Sultry Dusk was the razor edge; if Vegas was the razor edge, then Dusk was the rush born from the blade's slash.

_I'm waiting for my turn  
Waiting for my turn  
Just waiting for my turn  
Just waiting for my turn_

The blonde circled about the brunette, his body seeming to control the music. With each beat and note, his hips swerved, his hands glided through air and over skin; it was as if watching a puppeteer control an invisible, but audible puppet with his entirety.

_  
Maybe there's a devil (or something like it) inside  
Maybe there's a devil (or something like it) inside of me  
Devil (or something like it) inside  
Maybe there's a devil somewhere really deep inside me  
Devil inside of me  
Jealous angel deep inside me  
_

Vegas was up once again and turned to face the blonde. They strutted to opposite sides of the stage, shedding their wings as they went. In time, they rotated on their ends of the stage and faced one another again. Dollar bills were being stuffed into their black boots by the obviously pleased crowd as they stood still, waiting for the music to cue their next move.

_Time to make it burn  
This is how I burn_

The pair met center stage; eyes boring into each other's as they slowly circled each other like two predators, instigating a challenge. The crowd's breath seemed suspended with the music, eagerly awaiting the finale.

_Maybe there's a devil (or something like it) inside  
Maybe there's a devil (or something like it) inside of me  
Devil (or something like it) inside  
Maybe there's a devil somewhere really deep inside me  
Devil inside of me_

They spun around each other, viciously stripping one another of their remaining clothing and making deceptively furious grabs at each other, pantomiming a battle for dominance. Their aggressive theatrics and fierce shedding of garments definitely appealed to the sado-maso crowd as cheers and catcalls erupted from the crowd, egging them on.

_Jealous angel deep inside me_

With a magnificent finish, Vegas pinned Dusk to the floor as the music ended, fingers knotted in his hair and their faces centimeters apart, leaving their audience's libidos at the bursting point as they roared their approval.

"I think they liked us," Vegas murmured with a smirk, his breathing slightly heavier and his skin sparkling with sweat. Dusk snickered softly and raised an eyebrow.

"Do you think they liked us enough that we can get Madame Hui's tonight?" Dusk asked as money began to litter the stage. Vegas grinned mischievously and without warning, brought his lips to the blonde's, initiating a long, sensuous kiss. The reception was extraordinary. The walls shook with the whoops and whistles from their audience and money was thrown at them in droves. Dirty Vegas pulled his mouth from his best friend's and winked at his faintly surprised face.

"Yeah, I think we can afford it tonight." Dusk grinned and allowed himself to be helped up by the brunette. They took their bows and collected their earnings for the night and sauntered offstage with smiles on their faces that did not quite reach their eyes.

* * *

It went without saying that Riku was floored. He had been to many a strip joint in the past, all high-class and worked by very pleasurable entertainment, but that one boy….

Dirty Vegas they called him. The name alone sent tremors throughout his body. It promised a seductively raunchy kind of sexuality teased with chance. Just like in Las Vegas, if you played your cards right, you just might get lucky.

When he had danced, he had had such a hold on that entire room that if he had demanded anything of anyone in that room, it would've been his without question. The way he commanded the stage and moved his fine little body oh so deliciously was enough to bring the most celibate man to his knees.

As the lights came on signaling closing time, Riku rose from his seat, telling his companions that he was seeking one last drink and made a beeline for a stern looking man in the corner; he had been there for the duration of both Dirty Vegas's and Sultry Dusk's performances. Riku could tell by his watchful gunmetal grey eyes that this was the manager. He was tall, muscular and had a harsh no-nonsense look about him. These facts withstanding, Riku was not the least bit intimidated by the man. Okay, maybe just a little, but not enough to stop him from getting what he wanted.

Riku cleared his throat and before he could even open his mouth, the older man spoke first.

"I don't sell out any of my girls." He said shortly, a strong sense of finality in his voice. It sounded as if he had delivered this line many a time in the past. Riku merely smirked.

"What about your boys?" he inquired with a cocked eyebrow. The long-haired man's face hardened even further.

"_Especially _not my boys," he growled. Riku gave a chuckle and nodded. Obviously he knew exactly which boy he was talking about, and it seemed that Vegas was something to protect. It made him that much more desirable. Before he could respond, Riku's phone began to vibrate in his pocket. He flipped it open and read through the text message he had just received. It was from Axel, ever so politely demanding that he hurry his ass up or he was going to have to hitch home. The silver-haired man rolled his eyes and quickly tapped back a reply, assuring him that he was on his way. Sticking his phone back into his pocket, he once again met the stony eyes of the manager. His gaze clearly said that the conversation was over…or else. Riku smiled, unfazed, and tipped him a snarky salute.

"Whatever you say, Chief," Riku chirped before slipping back into the rambunctious, exit-bound crowd.

* * *

"Holy shit, Sor," Roxas said through a mouthful of pork-fried rice, "We've got enough to pay for Madame Hui's for like, three weeks!" The two were seated in Sora's dressing room on the ragtag sofa that sat adjacent to the vanity. The digital clock glared 2:30 a.m. as they shoveled delivered the ever-coveted (and ever-expensive) Madame Hui's Chinese food into their mouths. Sora made a face through his chicken and broccoli and swallowed hard before speaking, his eyes slightly watering.

"Hell no!" he exclaimed, though admittedly, reluctantly, "Most of this is going to this month's rent, groceries, and hopefully Mimi's vet bill." Sora's face turned genuinely worried as he thought of the small tabby that had followed him home one evening. "She ate a Skittle the other day and now I'm afraid she might die…" The brunette chewed nervously on the end of a chopstick as Roxas rolled his eyes.

Those weren't the only expenses that were nagging at his brain. He had managed to conceal it, but Sora had become twitchy and antsy in the past few hours. His high was reaching its end and he would soon need another hit, and this time he was looking for something heavier. Unfortunately, that would cost money. Money that he didn't have what with his overriding expenses.

"Well, maybe we can convince Leon to spot us a meal or two," Roxas suggested with a hopeful note in his voice as the door opened.

"So you two can resemble a bowling ball? Don't think so, Blondie."

Leaning against the door frame was a tall, muscular figure with long chocolate hair, and storm tinged eyes. His features were sharp and hard, but his eyes held a certain tenderness as he beheld the pair in the room.

"And what do you mean by that?" Roxas demanded with mock indignation. The tall brunette stepped into the room with a chuckle and shook his head.

"Why don't the both of you think about that the next time you're inhaling your next egg roll?" he suggested in a teasing tone. Roxas made a face and heaved a pair of jeans in his general direction. Sora pretended to be offended.

"How dare he suggest that I overeat!" Sora exclaimed, throwing down his chopsticks and standing up with a theatrical air. "Makes me so mad I could just…grr, pass me the lo mein!" he quickly demanded with a rapid snapping of his fingers at Roxas, looking away, eyes closed and pinching the bridge of his nose as if in painful disbelief.

"What a ham," Roxas muttered with a roll of his eyes and rising from the small couch, "You really should've been an actor." He smiled as the brunette dropped his act. He patted Sora's cheek before pulling him into an embrace. "Time for me to go, I've got work in about, oh, four hours." After quickly gathering his portion of their meal, Roxas gave Leon, who was much taller than him, a quick one-armed hug around the waist and was out the door with a wink and a "Catch ya later!"

"You watch yourself!" Leon called down the hall, "More and more inquiries are being made as to your 'private availability' each night." Leon finished in a lower voice to Sora.

Sora giggled and began to pack up his own things, longing to collapse on his bed and sleep until the world ended. He stifled a yawn and turned to look at Leon, sensing his moving across the room.

"What a night…" Leon sighed tiredly as he shuffled further into the room and settled on the couch, his eyes closing. Sora grinned and plopped down beside him, curling his tan legs up beneath his oversized Grumpy T-shirt. He placed his chin gently on the older man's shoulder and smiled a little. He liked being near Leon. He was someone familiar who made him feel safe. Strong, warm and protective, he was the complete converse of the proverbial strip club owner. He actually cared for the well-being of the people that he employed, and not because they were his source of income. They were his family.

"Where's Cloud?" Sora asked curiously, surprised that the humorous blonde wasn't tagging along behind Leon like he usually did. Cloud, their DJ (Cloud 9), was obviously and unashamedly in love with Leon. Sora knew it, Leon knew it, everyone knew it. Sora believed that they would be perfect together, and so did everyone else. Except Leon.

Leon's tired expression seemed to subtly shift into worn out annoyance and regret at Sora's words, "I don't know, around I guess..." he muttered dryly, his eyes remaining shut. Sora bit his lip, but did not press the matter. Sora figured the he and Cloud had probably had another fight. The way Leon constantly spurned the blonde's affections were getting more frequent and slightly harsher as Cloud refused to let him go without a "proper" answer as to why Leon didn't even want to give him a chance. Apparently "It'd be too difficult for the both of us" didn't fall under that definition.

But Sora supposed he had to sympathize. In this place, many things seemed to be difficult on in its inhabitants; unseen things. And many things didn't fall under its proper definition. Sora felt his hand twitch spasmodically and frowned, clenching it with his other hand. His body ached for the one thing that continuously brought him happiness. Happiness.

No..._nothing_ ever fell under its proper definition.

* * *

When the murderous-looking manager had completely disappeared from sight, Riku made his move. He had been lingering at the bar, texting Axel and persuading him to wait although the rest of their group had gone their separate ways. Rotating slightly on his barstool, Riku's eyes fell onto a figure not too far from him.

"Hey, you," Riku called to a waitress who was idly chatting with the bartender, snapping his fingers at her as if he were summoning a dog. She sauntered over and tilted her head to the side, hands on her hips.

"Shift's over, buddy, what do you want?" she asked without much patience. She looked tired, hot, and generally fed up. Riku smirked and pulled a crisp hundred dollar bill from his pocket and waved it in front of her. _That _seemed to give her a fair amount of patience.

"I'll give you this if you give me the dirt on Dirty Vegas," he said, his voice businesslike, but haughtily superior. He tried not to laugh as the girl's entranced eyes followed the greenback's slow progress through the air as he spoke. She tore her eyes away from the paper money and locked her gaze with his.

"What is it that you want to know?"

* * *

Okay, so this was zetta crappy as I noted before, and once again I am terribly sorry. Cloud's and Leon's characters are a bit vague in this chapter only because I don't want to elaborate on them until later. To do so now would be too much, too soon. And I think this'll be the last songficcy chapter. Sure I'll slip in a lyric or two in certain part of chapters because I am immensely inspired by music and listen to it while I write, but it won't be full blown lyrics.

So in the next chapter we're going to find out what it is Riku wants to know and some other stuff that will hopefully get this fic really rolling. I promise to try my hardest in making the next chapter better than this one. Got questions regarding this chapter? Let me know, and I'll see what I can clarify and whether or not they'll be answered sooner or later.

Thanks for putting up with the blahness of this chappie and your patience with my slow updates. I truly love you guys, thank you so much for your support and reviews.

**Song(s) Featured in This Chapter**

Act One, Scene One - The Fall of Troy...(Part I)

Devil Inside - Utada Hikaru...(Part II)


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